On the Blindness of Justice and Bats
by Imogen Kain
Summary: An essay explaining my personal views on the psychology of our favorite villain, the Joker.


**This is an essay I wrote this year, and I figured I'd post it here because it centers specifically around The Dark Knight. I'm very proud of it, and it does a lot to explain my view on the Joker's psychology. In fact, for a few of the TDK stories I'm writing (I say "a few" because You Can't Spell is NOT the only Joker romance in the works :D) I draw specifically off it. **

**This is fifty percent the creation of Tamara Evans. For all intents and purposes, we wrote it together. :) Enjoy!**

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We are living in Gotham.

Every day, animated, conscious, and breathing, the society of our world is not unlike the fictional universe of _The Dark Knight_, Christopher Nolan's 2008 masterpiece. This is not to say that we exist in a world of superheroes and villains, where regular people take it upon themselves to incite chaos or deliver vigilante justice on a daily basis. No. Instead, this parallel suggests that we are neither better nor worse than the imagined characters which compose such a comic-book world; after all, our realities are defined by personal ideologies of 'good' and 'evil,' much like the variable realties of Gotham's citizens. We are ruled by the push and pull of either side, torn by the conflict of what we are taught we _should_ do versus what we _want_ to do. Such meager struggles define our very existence, so how can we be distinguished from our fictional counterparts?

Both in and out of Gotham, people—that is to say, the average, everyday citizen—generally try to be 'good.' Society is constructed upon foundations of order, diplomacy and even kindness, the benefits of which keep children educated, streets clean, and cities developing. Batman, a symbol of basic human 'good,' would say that people are inherently moral; that at the base of human nature is a spark of light and beauty. He believes that we are born _tabula rasa_ and that only tragic circumstances create in us any 'evil,' which is something pitiable. Gotham, according to him, is "full of people ready to believe in good."

However, the brutal fact of the matter is that, almost without exception, people have to _try_. If we are essentially 'good,' moral, right and decent, why is such a concerted effort involved in acting accordingly? Why must we fight to retain our sense of justice or _teach_ our offspring that it is 'wrong' to fight, steal and kill? How are characters such as Batman and Commissioner Gordon justified in attesting to the fundamental innocence of humanity?

Immersed in his world of lies and secrecy, the Caped Crusader himself is the first to pollute this ideology. Widely considered a hero, he claims to deliver justice for the betterment of Gotham; in his words, "I'm whatever Gotham needs me to be." Despite his laudable motivation, he perpetrates many an act of violence against others. During the course of the film, he leaves behind a wake of explosions, property damage and bodily harm to criminals and innocents alike. Particularly troubling are the five murders he indirectly causes, murders committed because of his refusal to reveal his identity. Considering every reckless act of heroism, every explosion or overturned car for the 'greater good,' there is an infinitesimal likelihood that not a _single _innocent person was maimed or slaughtered as a result of Batman's rationalized rampage of justice. Batman's path to order is irresponsible, dangerously single-minded, and self-contradictory. Simply because the Winged Avenger refuses to _directly _murder someone, we are expected to believe that he is the 'good' guy. The moral pedestal provided by this "one rule" conveniently elevates Batman over those he seeks to punish, somehow giving him the powers of judge and jury. Perhaps Batman's critics have a point: "Gotham needs… elected officials, not a man who thinks he's above the law." The Batman is guilty of his own form of hypocrisy, his own unique manifestation of evil, and arguably the worst: evil that takes the shape of good.

At the very least, it is admirable that unadulterated, unapologetic iniquity does not lay false claim to its identity. When considering the top ten greatest film and television villains—and, for that matter, performances—of all time, Heath Ledger's Joker easily tops the list. It is immediately evident that this man, this villain, is living in his own world of darkness and chaos, a world rejected by the light-and-bright principles of the everyday citizen. That aside, it cannot be said that there exists a more liberated or self-conscious individual within the confines of Gotham.

The Joker has embraced his own night, his own madness, and he feels no desire to deviate from this, his norm—nor to adhere to the norm of the masses. He considers himself Gotham's liberator, its teacher and its owner. "The only sensible way to live in this world is without rules," he says, and who are we to argue? Better free, lawless and chaotic, than guilty of the same hypocrisy that plagues the Batman and so many other "civilized people." The Joker would call this the worst evil; that lying and cheating—especially cheating ourselves by way of self-deceit—debase humanity more than stealing or destroying ever will—those acts, at least, are honest.

It can be deduced, then, that the concepts of 'good' and 'evil' must be matters of personal opinion, and that whether or not a person _wants_ to be 'good' is the force with the potential to actually _make_ them 'good,' at least from their own perspectives. It's all a self-fulfilling prophecy, reduced to the question of how one sees oneself. The Dark Knight justifies his actions by claiming that they ultimately aid the people of Gotham and also create for him a sort of inner-peace. He is viewed as a hero, a fighter of 'evil,' a perpetuator of justice, and, surely, to him and to those situated under his banner, that _is_ the reality.

But to the Joker and the criminals against whom he campaigns, he is the enemy: a naïve, ill-advised amateur, blinded by his narrow assertion of what is 'light' and 'good.' That is _their_ reality, and it is no less real or true than the rest of Gotham's. In this way, the term 'reality' is a misnomer, because the relative nature of perception makes what is true and real to one person a blatant lie to another. Thus, there can be no absolute 'good,' nor an absolute 'evil,' except in the mind of the individual. Unfortunately, that individual is virtually always affected by the lessons of others and influenced by a lifetime of experience.

The Joker sees this. He sees past the illusions of ideology and status quo, past the accepted boundaries of deeds and beliefs. He maintains that, under it all, people are animals: "You see, their morals, their code, it's a bad joke. Dropped at the first sign of trouble. They're only as good as the world allows them to be… When the chips are down, these... these civilized people, they'll eat each other." We'd love to believe that we are 'decent,' that in our souls we are above evil and depravity. According to the Joker, we're not. When confronted with the immorality man is capable of, we convince ourselves that these are remarkable exceptions, that something went wrong with the individuals behind criminal acts, and that such crimes are not representative of human nature.

In one way or another, each of us wears a "mask," weaving words and actions into a guise which conceal our true selves. The Joker simply paints himself on the outside, allowing the clown face greasepaint to express his personal truth far more explicitly than anything he could say or do. We reject this idea of casting aside our civil, 'good' facades because doing so would bring to light the harsh truth about who we _really_ are. _Looking past_ can force us to see the human in the hero and the genius in the villain. It terrifies us because very seldom do we find ourselves actually faced with what we expect; the truth we uncover is not likely to align with our pleasant, accepted personal reality.

The Batman believes that we _need _our masks, our ideologies and constructs of 'right' and 'wrong,' to continue functioning as a healthy society. He says, "Sometimes the truth isn't good enough. Sometimes people deserve more." By playing the hero, he personifies this belief and, in the eyes of the people, becomes something which protects Gotham from itself. Ideally, he would operate only within the bounds of light, delivering justice with a fair and even hand. However, Batman's humanity essentially prevents this from being the case. With humanity comes vulnerability and so the mighty Batman falls victim to the same things we all do: fear, sadness, anger, and vengeance.

Something cannot be essentially, organically, completely 'good' if it can be perverted or changed. In fact, such a descent into darkness would only go to prove that 'good' and 'right' simply don't exist. The Joker attempts to pervert things considered innately pure by giving them "a little push;" that is to say, by tweaking one's realities and perceptions of 'good' and 'bad,' he can change who they are. If this can be accomplished, if even the best among us can turn out to have darkness at their cores, then what is the world but a cesspool of rot?

During one scene, the Joker orders Batman to "take off your little mask and show us all who you really are." His tone of voice suggests that he knows of the hero's weaknesses and wants them exposed in order to demonstrate that none of us are purely 'good,' not even the superheroes. The journey of Harvey Dent is a prime illustration in the Joker's portfolio: the corruption of a man who is all that is 'good' in Gotham. As the stalwart District Attorney, the "White Knight of Gotham" furthers the cause of justice publicly, without deception or disguise. Moreover, he truly, passionately believes in what he preaches—that fairness and order can "clean up [Gotham]." When his fiancé, Rachel Dawes, dies at the Joker's hands, however, his perceptions of right and wrong, justice and equality, are forever warped by the cruelty of the world. His reality becomes misplaced, erratic and centered on flipping a coin. The previously unshakeable Dent comes to believe that _chance_ is the only righteous force in the universe.

All the Joker did to bring about this complete transformation, to forge the villain from the hero, was convince Dent that his views were incorrect. In the Joker's words: "I took Gotham's White Knight and I brought him down to our level. It wasn't hard." People cannot be inherently pure if their corruption is but a tragedy away.

Once these prevalent ideals of 'good' and 'evil' are melded—as in Dent's case, virtue becoming corrupt and twisted—they can be disposed of as mankind begins to see the subjectivity and uselessness of such concepts. The naïve world of 'good' will thereafter cease to exist for society. When that happens, no law of man will prevent people from doing anything and everything they desire. Authority would be exposed for the arbitrary scheme it is. The state of nature—the urge to fight, kill, eat and take, 'animal' instinct, anarchy and spontaneity—all of these would reign supreme over the masked, proper, "civilized" society. All civilization ever did was cage up and stow away any and all 'bad' thoughts or impulses we feel and even made us _guilty_ over them. Chaos would be the only god. As "an agent of chaos," this is the Joker's ultimate goal.

In a world where civility and self-deceit are the practiced standard, very few people ever find out who they truly are. They are caught in life's mindless repetition of work and to-do lists, each day stuck in their custom-tailored prison cells, confined to the endless cycle of niceties and lawfulness. They climb the ladder of 'success' rung by rung in order to someday, perhaps, find themselves comfortable and happy. Comfort and happiness, come to it, are the ideas which turn the cogs of monotony in these folks; they assume that by doing what they always do—working hard, going to school, getting a job, obeying the law (except for the occasional speeding ticket)—they will achieve contentment. People are living every day in ignorance and consequent bliss.

The Joker shocks us from our reveries, making us rethink these values. He urges us to reach towards awareness of self. Rather than see the world through rose colored glasses, he beckons us to perceive things as he does—dark, dirty, decayed and dead. Anarchy emancipates us; doing what we want shows us who we are. The Joker knows this. He is a self-conscious, perhaps even enlightened, individual among the cattle of Gotham, who blindly follow each other through the unremarkable gates of social conformity. By embracing who he is and owning his actions, the Joker knows himself, arguably, as well as one can. There is a truth in him more illuminating than any ideals Batman or Commissioner Gordon have to offer.

Despite the Joker's honest examination of self and his understanding of moral relativism, he cannot claim a monopoly over the one true reality. Seeing past masks and lies does not mean the Joker can truly tell us what 'is.' He is, like the Batman, only human after all, a being of flesh and blood who perceives his environment by way of his senses. He never pauses to consider whether or not he has it right, whether or not he is guilty of exactly what he opposes in characters like Batman, Dent and Gordon. Although he doesn't put much stock in the concepts of 'good' and 'bad,' the Joker is kept from seeing the _objective _truth by his own, rather darker, philosophies. Instead, he perverts and inverts the morals of others to craft his own ideals.

Knowing this, it is impossible to definitively say that the Joker is right or wrong with any certainty. Reality defies any 'general' explanation; any individual attempting to define reality will unavoidably make it personal and subjective—"reality according to me," more or less. It can be surmised that reality is ambivalent and apathetic. It does not _have_ any beliefs whatsoever, which makes it operate neither within the realm of 'good,' of order and benevolence, nor of 'bad,' of chaos and malice. No human being can live in a pure, untainted reality. As creatures of belief and theory, our very nature dictates that we form preferences and see differences, thereby choosing a custom path to follow… even if 'in reality' the paths don't actually exist. All ideals are contained within the human mind. The universe doesn't care.

Or is that true? It cannot be known, certainly not by the likes of this student. The idea of reality as an indifferent state is only, after all, an idea itself. It is a theory concocted by an ideological human mind with a clear belief of what is right or wrong, a mind just as affected as everyone else's. No different, one could say, than a citizen of Gotham.


End file.
